I Will
by idreamof
Summary: Just a rambly little piece. Sir Leon and Merlin discuss a certain prince. Strictly friendship. All gen, all around. Edited.


AN: This little thing took on a mind of its own. It really has no point or purpose. I figured I'd post it anyway. In my mind it takes place on some random patrol, somewhere in the area of late season one to just before season 2. (Partially) REWORDED FOR (an attempt at) CLARITY.

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><p>Disclaimers: 1) I don't own anything you recognize. 2) I have no idea how old Leon is. I have no idea about anything regarding the middle ages and proper history and all that. That said, I do try to google things, but if anything is obscenely wrong, I do apologize. I'm also not a doctor. Basically, there are probably inaccuracies everywhere. Please excuse them. Hopefully it's at least remotely plausible.<p>

Merlin is lithe, and he knows it, but he also knows that he eats – well and regularly. Arthur is muscled from years upon years of training and combat, but as the pressure builds, as his duties take more and more from him, Merlin sees his ribs become more prominent, his skin grow paler. He's been on outings with Arthur and other knights, and he's noticed that the knights seem to keep careful watch of their prince at mealtimes. Merlin looks up as Sir Leon claps him on the shoulder one evening. "You treat him well." Merlin only nods, unsure what else to do.

It isn't until a few days later, on their last night before reaching Camelot that he hears more of the story. He is sitting watch, and Arthur and the rest of the knights are getting some much needed rest. He hears the crack of a twig behind him, and whips around, but it is only Sir Leon. The knight comes and sits on a rock beside him, giving him a brief smile before turning to stare out into the darkness. They sit silently for several minutes before Sir Leon speaks softly.

"He's under a lot of pressure." Merlin turns slightly toward him, making sure to keep part of his attention on their surroundings. Arthur would have his head if they were attacked on Merlin's watch and Merlin hadn't noticed.

"I know." Sir Leon nods.

"He sometimes comes across as … brash, but he's a good boy at heart. Young man, now, I suppose." Merlin doesn't say anything, only nods his understanding. "The first time he travelled with us, he was so anxious he hardly ate anything at all. We'd offer, but he'd often refuse, or he'd take what was given and only barely pick at it. And yet, we hardly noticed anything was wrong until we returned, and Gaius took one look at him and asked him whether he'd eaten _anything_ at all over those two weeks. That was when we realized how little he'd had." he trailed off. Merlin looked back at the sleeping knights, his gaze focusing on his master. Arthur was silent in his sleep, his chest rising slowly up and down, at one moment rolling his head slightly, but otherwise immobile. As Leon spoke again he turned back around.

"Once we'd found out, another one of the knights admitted that his brother did the same thing. Whenever he became stressed, he would say that he felt as though he was going to be sick, and he would refuse food. Every time he would claim he felt ill, they would call the doctor, but no true ailment could be found. They finally realized it was the worry itself that was the problem."

"Arthur would never admit to that," Merlin mumbled. Leon smiled gently.

"We thought as much, so we went to see Gaius ourselves. I suspect he'd already had a talk with the prince, but he told us to keep an eye on him as we could, just in case. Arthur tries, he really does. Sometimes, though, he just forgets."

"Does Arthur know you went to Gaius?" Leon looked at the ground, chuckling quietly.

"I suspect he'd be furious if he did." Merlin nodded, picking up a stick and starting to trace shapes in the mud with it.

"He has his pride. He never forgets his duty."

"Yes. He's a good lad though, and sometimes I wish he would let his guard down. We… as knights, we all train together, we go on patrols together, we fight together… we spend a lot of time together – friendships are formed. We joke around, whenever we can. We rib each other about things… Arthur joins in, sometimes, but you can tell that he's holding back. You can tell he's not quite letting himself go. He allows just enough so that he doesn't seem cold, but he holds onto his propriety. The king raised a right and proper heir, you know?" Merlin nodded. Sir Leon looked up at him then, the shadows playing across his face. "He seems to get on quite well with you though." Merlin's jaw went slack for a moment, utterly lost at how to respond, before he accepted the truth in the statement. He'd said, several times, that he considered Arthur a friend, but he'd never thought anyone else would ever notice it. He often doubted Arthur even noticed it.

"I… yes, I… we get on, yeah."

"It's good for him. He was such a solemn child. Never really had anyone, you know?" Merlin shook his head.

"You knew him then?" Sir Leon smiled, nostalgia in his eyes.

"Merlin, the entirety of Camelot knew him, from the day he was born." His eyes took on a sad quality then. "The kingdom worried, then. It became known that he was a sickly babe… and alone, with no one to love him. The king was … angry. Arthur had nursemaids, of course, and Gaius was there, but I… I always thought he must be lonely. I was a page then… he was born two years before I became a squire… so I was around the castle."

"What was he like?" Sir Leon shook his head.

"I didn't see much of him, in those early years. Just glimpses, you know? Of a tiny blond babe. By the time he was old enough and strong enough to start wondering the castle, I was a squire, so I had more duties. But I did see him, sometimes. He was a quiet little thing. Sad and solemn, I always thought. He did what he was told, he stood quietly when it was expected of him, did his lessons and his early trainings and appeared before the people when he had to. He didn't really have anyone his own age to play with. Not that Uther would have let him play, really, I suppose. And then Morgana came along, and she was a few years older than him, and I thought he might have a friend."

He smiled then, a little wryly. "Oh, how she taunted him. She was older, and taller, and tall for her age just as he was small, and she could outrun him - she could and she did. It became apparent, though, that she did care for him. She took him under her wing… or she tried to, I suppose. I think, even then, he was starting to learn to keep himself apart. They were close, though. They are. She never had as many lessons or duties as he did, but whenever they could, they would play." He snickered. "Or rather, she would play and he would chase after, trying to keep up." Merlin grinned at the thought of a young Arthur running about the castle. "Eventually, of course, he caught up to her in height, but by then he was beyond their games. The lessons and the training and the duties, and eventually the patrols, took up all of his time." The knight shook his head. "And here we are."

"Here we are," Merlin repeated softly.

"We all love him. His people, the people of Camelot… his knights… and we all worry about him. And we all know how he loves us, how he worries for us, for the kingdom. He shows us his care and his love with how fiercely he fights for his people, with how hard he strives to be just and fair and kind, even when it sometimes means disobeying Uther. He tries to be a friend to the people – but I know I don't just speak for myself when I say that I wish he'd let us be a friend to him in return." Leon looked at Merlin solemnly then, for a moment, before grinning gently. "But you, Merlin – you seem to have managed it." He shook his head, in mock disbelief. "You seem to have managed it. Take good care of him, Merlin."

His eyes were serious, then, and Merlin's voice was soft, and utterly solemn as he replied, "I will. I always will."


End file.
